


The Christmas Game

by bugsbetty



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mystery, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 10:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugsbetty/pseuds/bugsbetty
Summary: (Fic is on hiatus indefinitely because I'm the worst... maybe next Christmas? <3)It’s supposed to be a simple Secret Santa gift exchange. And it is, until Cheryl opens the final present and finds a relic from her past - something she never thought she’d hold in her well-manicured hands again. The gift is accompanied by an envelope containing a mysterious clue... thus begins a journey which carries the gang through sweet nostalgia of Christmasses past, reminding them who they used to be, revealing who they have become. As each piece of the puzzle falls into place, they can’t help but wonder: who among them is responsible for designing the hunt? And what awaits them at the end of it?(Reindeer games day 2: presents)





	The Christmas Game

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first official fanfic for the Riverdale fandom! Thank you to the organizers of the Reindeer Games event for giving me an excuse to write c: My plan is to feature all characters/ships equally throughout the chapters!
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the story. Chapters will be posted weekly-ish during December! You can find me at bugsbetty @tumblr <3

 ---

 

It’s her idea. The best ones always are.

She’s sick of this town; the constant danger and drama and whatnot. Oh, sure, she gets right into it when the opportunity arises. When it suits her. But lately it’s just been so… blah.

The most revolutionary thing to do, you see, is to be normal. To pretend this is like any other Christmas in any other place that isn’t Riverdale. So, she proposes the secret Santa gift exchange. She doesn’t let any of her invitees say no, because that would be counterproductive. They are going to have a happy, merry evening, they are going to give each other presents, they are going to eat snacks. She’ll play nice. She _is_ nice. She could be. If she wanted. For now.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Toni’s saying, even though Cheryl knows she understands why. In the absence of Thornhill and all of its Christmas traditions, Cheryl feels like she’s lost, drifting. She doesn’t want to return there, but she needs to learn how to adjust to this new normal, just in case - the demons are always lurking around the next corner, eager to take her back.

“It’ll be nice!” she insists, reaching to grab her girlfriend’s hand. Because she loves her, and also because it’s icy as all hell and they need to keep their balance. “No gift is greater than the gift of giving.”

She can practically _hear_ Toni rolling her eyes, but she doesn’t care. It’s intended to be tongue-in-cheek.

“Is that why you got Archie such a 'nice'  gift?” Toni asks, lowering her voice just in case anyone else happens to be lurking around.

Cheryl smirks.

“Fate made me draw his name. Who was I to refuse it?”

Toni snorts.

“I just hope I don’t get something stupid," she mutters, "I hate pretending to like things.”

“Then don’t pretend,” Cheryl tosses her hair, reveling in the way it flows down her leather-clad back. The Serpent jacket is a good replacement for her old favourite, which she still hasn’t rescued from Thornhill. She’s been far too busy with her budding archery career to worry about that, but the time will come.

“You’re certainly very open about what you dislike,” Toni agrees, squeezing her hand. Cheryl looks down at her. The lights of the Pembrooke carve dark shadows in her face. Cheryl gives her a tight smile.

“Are you ready for this?”

Toni takes a deep breath and nods. She’s playing it up, Cheryl knows, so she laughs.

“Come on, then.”

They climb the steps. As they approach the door, the butler swings it open.

“Miss Blossom, Miss Topaz. Miss Lodge is expecting you.”

“Well, of course!” Cheryl breezes past him, seamlessly turning the pep up a few octaves, “are the rest here yet?”

“You are the last to arrive,” he informs them. He takes their jackets and gestures to an open doorway, through which faint Christmas music spills. “Right that way.”

Cheryl removes her boots and makes a beeline in that direction. “Thank you!” Toni calls back over her shoulder, following quickly in the wake of the redhead's long strides. Cheryl pays no mind to the dull decor, outdated and not at all gothic. The music grows louder as they move through the room beyond the doorway, and soon they catch sight of the rest of the gang, all seated comfortably in the presence of a large Christmas tree. They’re chatting about something, laughing, and while Cheryl can’t help but feel left out, she swallows the bitterness down.

They’re here for her. Because of her. They wouldn’t have come if they didn’t care.

“Hello!” she smiles brightly, giving a wave. Veronica is the first to look up at her.

“Oh good, you made it!” the Lodge heiress lifts herself from where she's been canoodling with Archie on the love seat, pointing toward another room, “throw your gifts in there so we can’t see what they look like. I had Gaston whip up some snacks, if you’re hungry!”

“Perfect.”

Cheryl glimpses trays piled high with hors d’oeuvres as she passes by. Clearly, Hiram’s under-the-table dealings are still going well.

She and Toni enter the room to find a blanket thrown over the gifts, preventing them from snooping around at what the others have brought. It’s a clever detail on Veronica's part, she has to admit. She slides her gift underneath, setting it between a couple of boxes so it isn’t obvious it was the last to be placed. Toni does the same, eyes dark with amusement. 

“This feels so sketchy,” she whispers. Cheryl smiles, smoothing the edges of the blanket down.

“That’s the fun part."

 

 

When they rejoin the others, Kevin and Moose have moved to cushions on the floor, leaving space for Cheryl and Toni on the couch. Cheryl is quietly touched by the gesture, especially as she’s quite certain Moose is terrified of her. As if she hasn’t known his little secret since sophomore year. She's not  _that_ cruel, to out him.

“Thank you, boys,” she lowers herself down, reaching for a salmon roll and popping it in her mouth. It’s delicious. She chews slowly, adjusting her bracelets before looking around the room. She wonders if they realize they’ve fallen silent, now. She hates it - you’d think, after all they’d been through together, her presence wouldn't immediately mute them any more… but she understands. Friendships are earned. She can play this game.

“So? What were you talking about?” she keeps her voice level. Casual.

“Oh!” Betty perks up, eyes warm, “we were just saying what a great idea this was! We were surprised - _pleasantly_ surprised - when you suggested it.”

Cheryl beams. She respects Betty in a way, ever since Betty stopped being afraid of her. And they’re _family_ , after all. And Betty was the one who finally told her the truth about Jason.

“Well of course!” Cheryl replies, finishing off her roll and placing her hands on her knees, “we’ve all been so busy running around, breaking people out of prison, fighting annoying Scooby Doo creatures. I thought this would be a good change.”

“It is a perfectly normal thing to do,” Veronica agrees. Beside her, Archie nods his puppet nod. At least he’s still nice to look at.

“So… now that we’re all here,” Kevin looks up at Veronica, then to Cheryl, “when do we start opening presents?”

Cheryl is pleased that he deferred to her. It was _her_ idea, after all.

“Well, if everyone’s done eating, we could start now!” she offers, clapping her hands together. A few glances are exchanged - another annoying habit they all seem to have around her. Why is it that everything she says deserves scrutiny? She’ll prove to them that she’s changed, that she can be _trusted_ now.

“Sounds good to me,” Kevin nods. Cheryl’s smile grows.

“Great! Would you go grab the presents?”

He blinks, then glances at Moose.

“Er, sure. Moose, could you help?”

“Yep.” Moose hops up. Cheryl lets her gaze linger on him for a moment, curious. When he’s with Reggie, Moose is more or less a non-person to her. Just an oaf, really. But when he’s with Kevin, he seems quieter. More introspective. His duplicity is intriguing.

“We should probably make room for the presents on the table,” she turns to Veronica, who raises her eyebrows.

“Oh, good idea.” The brunette leans to start clearing the platters, but Cheryl’s eyes shift to Archie.

“Great! Archie, be a dear and remove the appetizers, would you?”

She feels Toni nudge her, just slightly. She doesn’t need to look at her to know why - she’s doing the bossy thing again. She drags her teeth over her lower lip, as if she might be able to physically bite back her compulsion to be in charge.

“Well, help Veronica, I mean! I will, too.”

That’s what friends do, isn’t it?

 She stands carefully, dusting herself off, and helps Veronica carry an over-sized charcuterie board to the table at the back of the room. Archie handles the rolls, and they manage the precarious shrimp cocktails between the three of them. Toni gives Cheryl a supportive nod when she sits back down, and Cheryl lets out a long breath, twisting her hands together on her lap. Moose and Kevin have reappeared with the gifts, balancing them carefully in their arms and shuffling to dump them onto the now-empty table.

“Oh man, I’m getting that Christmas feeling just looking at those,” Toni grins, reaching to help them organize the presents.

“Is that Santa on the roof?” Kevin asks, cupping a hand to his ear and looking up at the ceiling. Toni laughs, so Cheryl allows a small smile.

“I think Santa’s already in this room,” she muses. Kevin drops his gaze, whipping his head around suspiciously.

“I _knew_ it!”

Betty rolls her eyes, leaning to tug at his sleeve.

“Alright, sit down you goof.”

He and Moose oblige, getting settled back on their cushions.

Cheryl waits until everyone is properly seated, sitting up straighter once she’s satisfied she has their attention.

“Okay! Who’s first?” she asks, looking over the gifts. It’s a collection of oddly-shaped, oddly wrapped packages. She reaches for one at random. It’s lumpy, with copious amounts of tape. Certainly not Betty’s handiwork. Cheryl turns it over, squinting at the name.

“Kevin!” she tosses it to him. He catches it easily.

“Thanks, Cheryl! And - well, I guess I’ll thank my _secret_ Santa once I open it…”

He feels at the package, frowning curiously before tearing at the wrapping. It’s difficult to open with all the tape, but eventually the paper comes away to reveal a Christmas sweater. He appears pleasantly surprised, smoothing it out on his lap. It’s got little Christmas trees across it, and while Cheryl _probably_ wouldn’t be caught dead in something like it, it’s not the worst thing she’s seen.

“Oh hey, nice! I might actually wear this!” he laughs, holding it up to himself.

“It’ll bring out your eyes,” Betty points out. She’s leaning in to see it. Kevin holds it out to offer her a better look.

“This’ll be great for the party at La Bonne Nuit! Very tasteful.”

“I agree,” Veronica smiles. While Cheryl is pleased that things have gotten off to a good start, she's also impatient.  

“Okay, not a dud gift,” she tries her best to appear relaxed, leaning back into the couch, “great! Kevin, you can pick the next present out.”

He folds the sweater carefully and grins, reaching haphazardly into the pile. His hand lands on a neatly wrapped cylinder.  

“Archie,” he reads the label, passing it to the other boy. Cheryl perks up. It takes the redhead a moment to extract himself from Veronica’s clutches in order to unwrap it. When he does, everyone squints at the container he reveals.

“Uhh… hair gel?” he holds it up.

Cheryl doesn’t dare look at Toni. If she does, she’ll burst out laughing. The confusion on the poor boy’s face is worth it. She feels her girlfriend’s fingers digging into the fabric of her leggings, and she can’t help it - a snicker bubbles out, and she quickly coughs in an attempt to stifle it. Veronica cottons onto them, narrowing her eyes and rubbing her beau’s back.

“Obviously someone’s noticed your hair's impeccable style,” she comforts him. He at least has the decency to look somewhat grateful, glancing around the circle.

“Well, thanks. I can always use more of that.”

 He sets it by his feet, taking his pick from the pile.

"Jughead!"

Jughead wastes no time tearing it open. Inside is a book: an anthology of world-changing news articles. His eyes scan the description on the back, and positively beams before he catches himself, forcing his lips back into an easy grin.

“Wow, thanks!” he looks up, eyes crinkling at the corners, “seriously, I appreciate this one.”

Moose’s gift is a plate of cookies, which he seems happy about. Toni slumps against Cheryl in relief - she spent _days_ agonizing over what to get the football player, finally admitting that Cheryl’s suggestion of food was probably the best way to go. All men love food, after all.

The next gift goes to Veronica, who unwraps it and makes a delighted sound.

“A woolly scarf! It’s so warm!” she puts it to her cheek, closing her eyes for a moment before quickly inspecting it. “Is it homemade?”

Nobody says anything, but Betty’s doing her best _not_ to look at Veronica, and the Lodge heiress’ smile grows even wider. Cheryl feels maybe a _little_ bad about Archie’s gift, seeing the thought put into Jughead’s and Veronica’s, but really. Secret santas can’t be all heartfelt and mushy.

Veronica pulls a small box from the pile, carefully reading the name across the top.

“Toni!”

She smiles brightly, leaning around Cheryl to hand it to the other girl. Toni takes it, cupping her hands around it.

"Hmm..."

She peels the tape carefully back to reveal a blue velvet case. When she opens it, a pair of serpent earrings glint in the room's warm light.

“Oh, cool!” she exclaims, lifting one up. Cheryl takes the other, looking it over. They’re designed such that the serpent’s head is a stud, and the rest dangles off the back of the earlobe. Their eyes are little green gems.

“They actually _are_ ,” she has to agree, turning to look at her girlfriend, “someone was clearly inspired by your necklace.”

Toni looks down at the serpent dangling from her neck, smiling.

“They’ll go great together! Thank you! I wasn’t actually expecting something so cool. I’ll put them on right now, actually.”

Cheryl doesn't feel the urge to hurry anything along this time, watching with absolute fondness as Toni removes her other earrings. She realizes she was worried about Toni's gift. Toni’s pretty new to the Northside, and aside from Jughead, they don’t all know her too well. The potential for a totally impractical gift was high. But whoever drew her girlfriend's name  _definitely_ did their research.

Once the earrings are in, Toni tucks her hair behind her ears and turns her head from side to side.

“How do they look?”

“Absolutely perfect!” Cheryl exclaims, reaching to touch one again. Veronica adds, “I love them.”

 

Betty receives a journal - “Just what I needed!” - with a beautiful fabric cover. Cheryl’s gift is, somehow, the last to be given, and they all watch eagerly as she pulls it toward herself. Back in the spotlight, she can’t help but cherish the attention.

She lifts it up, feeling it between her hands. It’s solid, box-shaped, with bumps and ridges. Wrapped neatly enough. A bit hefty, sharp in the corners.

She tears the wrapping paper slowly off of it, and then pauses.

It’s a music box.

Not just _a_ music box - it’s almost exactly like the one she left behind in Thornhill. In fact… she turns it over. On the bottom, in etches that have worn and faded with time, it says:

_To my Cheryl, with greatest love._

The box Nana Rose gifted her as a child.

She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t want to cry.

“Who…” she begins, and she’s angry. She doesn’t know why she’s angry. Is it a trick?

She turns it back over, running her fingers along the polished rosewood. When she opens it, a sad, sweet tune starts to play. A little ballerina spins in the middle, her paint worn and faded. It’s lined with red velvet, and the mirror is clean. It _isn’t_ a trick, she realizes. This has to be the real thing. And then, in a bloom of emotion, she’s so _grateful_.

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out, so she closes it again. She _could_ cry, if she let herself - if she were willing to plaster her heart on her sleeve for the world to see.

Toni leans to hug her. And oh, Cheryl wants to bury her face in her shoulder and let it all take her, the sadness and the joy and the grief, but everyone else is _watching_. So, she hugs Toni stiffly back with the hand that isn’t holding the music box. She squeezes her eyes closed and takes in a deep, cleansing breath. When she opens them again, the tears no longer threaten to spill.

Pressing her lips into her standard smile, Cheryl looks around the room. There is no one person who stands out. No one person who looks unsurprised.

“Thank you,” she says, and closes the music box carefully. The music cuts off. Silence falls, filled only by the soft croon of Michael Buble's Christmas album.

Cheryl leans to set the music box on the table. When she does, the remnants of the wrapping paper start to slide out of her lap. She reaches quickly to stop them from falling, and feels something hard beneath her hand.

"What -" she frowns, extracting the object from the mess. It's a little envelope. She hadn’t noticed it before - it must have been tucked under the music box. ‘ _Open me_ ’ is scrawled across it.

Toni rests a hand against her back. 

“What’s that?”

Cheryl turns it over slowly, frowning.

“I don’t know.”

The envelope isn’t sealed, so she folds the flap back. Inside is a small square of paper, folded in half. She extracts it from the envelope and opens it, eyes flickering over the page, frown deepening.

“What does it say?” Veronica asks.

Cheryl licks her lips, glancing up at the group. They are each captured in a web of intrigue, bodies leaning toward her, watching intently. _Is it a new mystery?,_ she sees in their faces, _Is it some new horror?_

Some of them - Jughead, Moose, Betty - look guarded. Others - Kevin, Veronica, Toni - are hopelessly curious. Archie looks confused.

“It’s a poem,” Cheryl clears her throat, “it says:

_“In the forest you will find_

_A place you thought was lost to time._

_Down pebbled paths, nostalgia’s gloom,_

_A rotten roof and your next clue.”_

“Next clue?” Betty echoes, a crease forming between her brows, “is this some sort of game?”

Cheryl folds the paper back closed, setting it on top of the music box. Something black coils inside of her.

“Alright,” she makes her voice hard, “‘fess up. Who gave me this music box?”

Nobody says a word. Kevin shakes his head. Cheryl presses her lips into a firm line.

“Alright, then. Let’s each say who we gave a gift to. Process of elimination.”

Before anyone can respond, Veronica reaches over, placing a hand on Cheryl’s shoulder and looking her in the eye.

“How about _before_ we ruin the game, we figure out what this poem… clue, or whatever it is, means.”

Cheryl brushes her hand off, swallowing down the rage that’s threatening to crawl up her throat.

“No. One of you is making fun of me, or something. Someone _broke_ into _Thornhill_ for that music box,” she pointed at it accusingly, “someone is trying to send me into the _forest_ -”

“Cheryl.”

Toni interrupts, placing a hand on Cheryl’s knee. Cheryl remembers to breathe. She looks to Toni, helpless, struggling to make sense of everything she’s feeling.

“Do you really think whoever got the music box was doing it maliciously?”

Cheryl blinks. She glances at the box. Its melody is still playing in her head. If someone  _really_ wanted to hurt her, she thinks, they wouldn't have chosen this. It always sat on her dresser, collecting dust. Nana Rose is the only Blossom Cheryl can still stand to think of. No, if someone wanted to hurt her, they would have chosen something from her mother. 

“I think… I don’t know,” the hot black energy starts to leave her, and in a moment of clarity she has to admit that it isn’t the music box that’s making her feel this way. It isn’t the note. It’s just that the music box came from Thornhill, and Thornhill is home and everything she used to be, and its the root of every horrible betrayal she's known... really it isn’t the music box that’s the problem. It’s Thornhill, and her mother, and her father, and Christmas.

“I think it’s one of the few things I could have actually liked to receive,” she admits. Toni smiles gently, reaching to stroke her hair. Cheryl leans into her touch, into the fragile calm her fingertips provide.

“The world may be out to get us, but _we_ aren’t out to get _you_ ,” Betty reminds her quietly. When Cheryl looks at her, she sees the truth shining in her eyes. “We’re in this together. Here, give me the clue.”

Cheryl nods, reaching for the clue and passing it to her cousin. Betty takes it, unfolding it once more. With the room’s attention shifting away from her, Cheryl can comfortably settle into Toni’s arms, focus on calming her pounding heart.

“It sounds like we're being sent on some sort of scavenger hunt,” Betty decides, squinting at the words.

“A fun scavenger hunt? Or a secret murderer trying to lure us all out into the dark woods so he can... murder us scavenger hunt?” Jughead asks, leaning to read the clue for himself.

Betty can only offer a ghost of a laugh, tilting the paper toward him.

“I’m hoping the former.”

“Maybe we should just leave it…” Archie finally speaks up, “we’ve made it through a lot, I don’t want to tempt fate.”

Veronica straightens her back, tilting her chin defiantly.

“Oh, come on. What are we afraid of? Obviously someone here did it and just doesn’t want to admit to it. How else would it have gotten in the present! And it could be _fun_. We should at least figure out what the clue means.”

Betty looks hesitant, chewing at her lip, but Kevin nods.

“I agree. No way anyone could have gotten that in there without the gift-giver knowing about it, right? And scavenger hunts are usually fun! It’ll be like we’re kids again.”

Cheryl purses her lips, about to speak, but Jughead jerks his head up, tugging the note from between Betty’s fingers.

“Wait. Like we’re kids!” He looks over at Archie, and then Betty, a grin flickering across his lips. “A place lost to time. In the forest? _Nostalgia_?”

Betty furrows her brow, while Archie’s mouth pulls into a perfect ‘o’.

“The treehouse?”

Betty blinks.

“Oh my god, I think you’re right! The _treehouse_!”

“I know I’m right,” Jughead smirks, holding the note between his hands like a prize. Veronica beams, clapping her hands together.

“See! Maybe this isn’t just for Cheryl. Maybe it’s for all of us! And we’ve got our first lead. Get your jackets on!”

“Wait…” Moose raises a hand, concerned, “we’re going out now? In the middle of the night?”

“When has the middle of the night stopped us before?” Veronica tries to point out.

“I mean, I’m not usually involved in all the running around and hunting down killers and stuff,” Moose rebuts.

Cheryl has to admit, the kid has a point. He’s sort of been a backdrop item since Betty’s dad attempted to murder him. He’s no pretentious sleuth duo, not the daughter of a mafia overlord, certainly hasn’t escaped prison through the drain of a secret cage fighting stadium, isn’t even part of a Southside gang. And he certainly isn’t _Cheryl_.

His uncertainty brings her back from the brink, a little bit. Reminds her she’s not that little girl trapped beneath Mommy’s thumb any more. She’s a warrior.

“That’s true. It might be dangerous,” Kevin has Moose’s back immediately. Veronica and Jughead both look disappointed.

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow -” Toni begins, but Cheryl silences her with a gentle hand on the arm.

“Oh, come on. Are we really going to let some imaginary gremlin stop us? Or whatever we're supposed to be running from now? I’ll bring my bow, and if we have to get out of there quick, I doubt you’re the slowest runner here, muscle mayhem.”

As usual, her words have a profound silencing effect on the rest of the gang, and this time Cheryl pays it no mind, smiling her signature smile.

“So? Who’s with me?”

“I mean… we already know I’m willing,” Veronica agrees, turning to Archie, “Archiekins?”

He shrugs. “Well, I guess.”

 _Useless_ , Cheryl thinks of him, sliding an arm around Toni’s waist. She realizes she's interrupted her girlfriend and invalidated her thought, so she gives her a squeeze, looking back to her.

“You good with that, babe?”

Toni shoots Moose an apologetic look. 

“I mean, if we're  _all_ cool with it, I don't have any other plans.”

“I’m also in,” Jughead nods, casting a suspicious glance toward Cheryl, “and I’ll have you know, I’m a fast runner.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Cheryl dismisses him good-naturedly, setting her piercing gaze on her cousin, “Betts?”

Betty sighs, casting a sidelong glance toward Kevin.

“I guess so. Really, guys, if anything feels off, we can just turn around.”

Kevin purses his lips, considering. Cheryl knows he wants to go, but his next words don't surprise her. 

“Up to Moose.”

The attention returns to the football player. Cheryl gives him a withering look, Veronica a hopeful one. Moose groans, rubbing his forehead.

“Seriously, I already almost got killed out there once. If it feels like it’s gonna happen again…”

“Then we’ll go right back home!” Veronica leaps to reassure him. “And, honestly, have you _seen_ Cheryl with her bow?”

And with that, the matter is settled.

 

As they prepare to leave, Cheryl packs the music box carefully away, letting her fingers linger on the familiar grooves. Sending a silent prayer out for Nana Rose. And then they wrap themselves in scarves and tuck their gloves into their sleeves and spill out into the night. Cheryl hops on her bike and pulls her helmet over her head, waiting for Jughead to lead the way.

The cold December air is no match for them. They speed past Christmas lights and evergreen trees, out past where the streetlamps stop, down into the pressing darkness of the forest. And all of the fearlessness Cheryl possesses blossoms fully inside of her.

 

 

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed the story so far! Hopefully you've got your detective cap on... I'm interested to know, who do you suspect is behind the clues? Who gave Cheryl the music box? And why are they doing it? 
> 
> If you have any other comments/critiques/suggestions, I am very open to constructive feedback! I really enjoyed writing Cheryl - how do you think I could improve her character in the future?


End file.
